


I Wanna Feel Somethin'

by TheLiveshipParagon



Category: Marvel (Comics), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Dominance, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Frank Castle, Injury, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 08:10:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15945299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLiveshipParagon/pseuds/TheLiveshipParagon
Summary: Anonymous Reader request from Tumblr:'Could I please get a female reader smut request with Frank Castle? Based around the idea that he comes to her after the event with Billy at the carousel and she comforts him? '





	I Wanna Feel Somethin'

**Author's Note:**

> I've really missed doing Frank's dialogue.  
> Enjoy the shameless smut  
> (Proofreading errors possible)  
> \- TLP xx

There was a heavy pounding at the door of your apartment and you instinctively grabbed for your gun.

Nothing good ever came out of a sound like that.

As you traipsed quietly to the door and glanced through the peephole, you almost audibly gasped as you saw Frank outside, hammering the wood for all it was worth.

You wrenched open the door and he half fell in, you catching him to support him as you manoeuvred him over to the couch before locking and deadbolting the door.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, I almost shot you!” you reprimanded before you turned and  _really_ got a good look at him. “Fuck Frank!”

He was bruised so heavily you knew it would takes weeks to heal, not to mention the apparently hastily stitched bullet wound in his leg. You couldn’t even see some of the original colour of his skin.

“What happened?!” you rush over, trying to inspect him.

“Russo,” he grunts. “It’s done. It’s over.”

He gets tired of your fussing and takes your wrists in his massive hands, keeping them still.

“Don’t you be like that,” you frown. “You know I have to check you over.”

“Please,” the word sounds so small and you instantly let go of all the tension in your body. Frank’s expression looks so lost, so broken. “Please girl, I just need….fuck, I ain’t very good at this….”

You lean forward, wrapping him in your arms and that seems to be what he wanted because he clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. His fingers almost dig into your back and you have to gently shush him, petting his blood matted head until he calms a little.

“I thought it would make me feel better, ya know?” he mumbles into your chest. “But I just felt fuckin’ nothin’ afterwards. Nothin’ but emptiness.”

“But at least the person responsible for your family got what he deserved,” you say firmly.

“He’d found you,” Frank says in little more than whisper. “Quoted ya entire fuckin’ address to me and date a’ birth. Said he had a team waitin’ to get ya.”

“Is that why you were so spiteful to my door?” you try and make a joke.

He makes a tiny snort of laughter before you see his brow settle into a frown again, “I was worried, girl. So fuckin’ worried. When he said all a’ that, that was the only time I felt somethin’.”

“Frank?”

“I ain’t gotta fuckin’ clue how I woulda got through this without ya,” Frank says and you’re shocked by his outpouring of emotions.

Frank was never one for feelings, sharing his thoughts, nothing. He was pretty much a closed book. It was honestly strange how the two of you ended up in this situation to start with.

You’d been neighbours when he was in hiding and had ended up killing a hitman that was meant for him, armed with nothing more than a copy of  _Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell_ in hardback. The unlikely bond it had formed between you and Frank had lasted for months and he would use your place sometimes when Micro got on his nerves too much.

“You wouldn’t,” you smirk. “You’d be smothered by some Anvil asshole whilst you slept.”

“Ain’t arguing that, girl,” Frank nods grimly. “I am sorry ya got messed up in my  world. I never meant…”

“Hey hey, it’s alright,” you hug him again.

“And again, this is the only goddamn time I’m feelin’ somethin’,” he mutters to himself. “That says a lot, right?”

“Just tell me what’s going on in your head,” you say softly. “I know you don’t like to share much but-”

He jerks up so fast you have no time to register what’s happening until he’s already kissing you, kissing you like he’s wanted to do it forever. He pulls away, eyes searching yours, anxious at your reaction.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he backtracks rapidly, embarrassed.

Having romantic feelings for your friend had made it difficult sometimes to be around him but with him baring his soul for you, you got confident. You took his jaw in your hand and kissed him back.

“Don’t be sorry,” you say. “I’m not complaining.”

It was like the switch flipped and all those nights of flirtation, all those times you thought you two might have been about to kiss, all the sexual tension just exploded. He was on you, raking his hands through your hair as he pulled you fully on to his lap. Fingers traced everywhere, grabbed everywhere, explored everywhere.

“Hold on, girl,” he says, eyes dark and voice dropping an octave. “Ain’t gonna be on your shitty couch. You deserve better.”

You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he stands up, supporting your weight and carrying you through to your bedroom where he drops you gently onto the mattress.

“Fuck, am I dreamin’ this?” he crawls up your body. “Did I die on the carousel?”

You palm him through his trousers and he hisses in pleasure.

“Does that feel like dreaming?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Smart ass,” he mutters. “Let’s see how ya smart mouth works, darlin’.”

His kisses got more aggressive and you both fought for dominance until he pinned your arms above your head. That shit eating grin he gave only spurred you to be more bold and you hooked your legs around him, grinding up against him so slowly you could see the shiver that run through him.

Frank had obviously decided enough was enough because he yanked you up to a sitting position, half dragging your clothing off, eager to strip you. You hastily obliged until you were only in your underwear before you pulled him back down on you.

“Shit, girl,” he pants. “You are somethin’.”

He leans back up, presumably to start taking his own clothes off but he looks at your half naked body and stills. You glance down, seeing the blood that had transferred to your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, torn about what to do. “God, that ain’t very attractive. I’ll…I’ll clean up.”

“I don’t care,” you say bluntly. “You need it.  _I_ need it.”

“Sure?”

“Do I need to rip your damn clothes off myself?”

“Well that  _would_ be kinda hot,” he chuckles before unclipping his tactical vest and shedding the rest of his clothing.

You can now see the extent of the damage. It looks like he’s suffered a punctured lung, broken ribs, a close range gunshot to the thigh and a hell of a beating.

“I know I ain’t pretty right now,” he catches your look.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be in a hospital?” you say concerned.

“Survived worse,” he says succinctly. “And ‘sides,  _you_ were the one saying ya need it too so…ya wanna stop?”

“Fuck no,” you shake your head. “As long as you don’t make your injuries worse.”

“Can’t promise,” Frank leans back over you, his hot skin touching yours. “I ain’t a gentle man.”

“I know,” you glide your hands down his heavily muscled chest. “And I’m not made of glass.”

“Knew I liked ya for a reason,” he grins lopsidedly before returning to kiss you, the motion even more desperate than before.

You can feel how hard he is through his boxers as you both writhe against the other, you emitting soft moans every so often.

“God I need to fuck ya, girl,” Frank rasps by your ear, biting the lobe gently. “I wanna feel somethin’.”

“Then fuck me, Frank,” you unclip your bra, baring your chest for him to see. “Take what you need.”

He shreds your underwear with a 'I’ll replace 'em’ grunted at you before he’s slicking himself with your wetness.

“Goddamn, ya want this a lot, huh?” he chuckles. “Never knew ya thought of me this way.”

“And did  _you_?” you blush slightly.

“All the goddamn time, darlin’,” he says truthfully. “Just too scared to admit it.”

He gives you a much sweeter kiss, caressing your cheek with one hand before burying himself in you, eliciting a loud gasp as you tried to adjust to the sheer girth of him. He audibly groans as he manages to push so deep you arch up in response.

Then the Frank you expect takes over and he’s already hiking one leg up in the crook of his arm to get a better angle, ramming his cock hard. Your fingers are alternating between twisting in the sheets, clutching onto his biceps and running over his chest.

It’s almost feral the way he handles you and that just excites you more. This was exactly how you had pictured this with Frank and fuck did it feel damn good.

He leans up slightly at an angle to you and holds your leg over his shoulder whilst his other hand snakes down to your clit and begins tracing tiny patterns that make you spasm around him.

“Shit, girl. I love those fuckin’ noises ya makin’,” he husks, picking up his pace even more.

The need was unbearable and you teetered on the edge, almost losing yourself in the moment, forgetting all of your surroundings.

“Come on, girl. I know you wanna,” Frank ruts particularly hard, fingers moving harsher against you. “Fuckin’ scream for me.”

The brash dirty talk tipped you over and you came hard around him, crying out so loud you were sure you were gonna get neighbour complaints posted through your door. As you twitched on the bed, Frank leaned forward, making more contact with you before grabbing your hair so he could pull you into a kiss just as he thrust hard and spilled himself into you.

“Fuck,” he breathes, head resting against yours.

“And did you feel something?” you ask when you recover, unhooking your leg from his shoulder.

“I did,” he strokes your hair, still not moving off you. “I did and that tells a man somethin’.”

“What do you mean?” you try and blink your post orgasmic haze away.

“When a man is fuckin’ scared of losin’ somethin’, when he feels somethin’ deep in his chest that means he cares deeply,” Frank refuses to look at you as he speaks.

“Just say it Frank,” you prompt. “We’ve already burned the bridge of friendship here.”

“I love ya, darlin’.”

“I love you too, you idiot. Now lie down with me,” you laugh.

“Yes Ma'am,” he smiles, a genuine warmth in his eyes as he rolls off you and puts his head on your chest. “And thank you for helpin’ me feel again.”


End file.
